1,260 Days
by Rikku Shinra
Summary: AU. The real Trowa Barton lives and is wreaking havoc on Earth subjugating the populace. Warrant Officer Triton Bloom, an Oz special in all but title, has a chance at redemption and the possibility to change the future.
1. Prologue

Prologue

 _It has been three and a half year since Operation Meteor launched. Three and a half years since the Earth was plunged into fire and brimstone. Three and a half years – 1,260 days to be exact; since my destiny changed. Trowa Barton lives, Romefeller's puppet Treize Kushrenada sits on a golden throne, his hands mared in the blood of innocence's. The Gundams have become myths among OZ, unseen Gods to the rebels who wish for a better life. In my failure, I gained a chance at redemption._

Klingon alarms blared, the horrendous shrieking alarm was soon drowned by the horrified screams of residents their bodies floating in the air. Families clung to each other, a young couple embraced each other as the world, and the world they had known for their entire lives turned red as the generators shut down which had caused the sudden loss of gravity and the ceasing of the life support fans. Moments later a bright white light filled the area and the screen flickered returning to two stunned and silent news anchors. Their mouths open in silent horror, both staring into the camera. The man was the first to recover and he glanced to his co-host. She turned to him, and they both looked back at the cameras, the fear of what they along with millions more had just witnessed.

"Th-that can't be real…" the man stammered looking off screen as one of the assistants brought over a piece of paper and handed it to him. He scanned the paper quickly then handed it off to his co-host. Realization dawned on her, and her body began shaking uncontrollable, sobs wracking her entire being. "The time is 2030 April 7th AC 195, it is reported that a decommissioned – "he paused sitting up straighter trying to hide the emotions that where quickly over taking him. "Reports are coming in that the decommissioned L5 colony AY756-087 has plummeted to Earth due to a mechanical failure with the life support generators cause the colony to drop out of orbit. The short video that had taken over the air waves was the last moments of the colony residence." The woman stood, two assistants coming over to help her stand.

"My son!" She wailed, falling to the floor despite the assistants. "Johnathan!" The man stood and rushed over to her, wrapping his arms around her.

"Denise…he made it, don't think he's gone." Denise wailed, burying her head into the man's shoulder. The screen turned to snow, replaced with a multi colored test screen. The hanger was solemnly quite. Multiple engineers stood around a few had fallen to their knees in distress, their sobs the only sound in the otherwise dead air. Slowly they turned, staring at the two men that stood before them dressed in pristine military uniforms. Behind them loomed the Omni presences of a Gundam. The suit, which they had worked for years on, would soon be leaving to earth to quell to the chaotic land.

Feedback vibrated off the walls, "Today Operation Meteor has come to fruition!" The man clapped gleefully. "You have all worked so hard and tirelessly on this beautiful creation." He glanced back at the suit, breathing deeply. "And for that the Barton Security Group thanks you." He turned back to the large crowd and smiled. Behind him the pilot, a tall, lanky man quickly entered the cockpit.

"You all deserve to be justly compensated and due to recent actions we feel that compensation of the highest order is the only way to properly compensate you. You all have laid down your lives for a just cause." The cold metal sound of rifles cocking drew the attention of the engineers to the small army that had surrounded them. "In the next life you will hopefully know what it means to bite the hand that feeds." The man stepped off the platform in front of the Gundam the elevator shift towards a large pod. Doktor S frowned glaring at the men that held his arms.

"Doktor S, you're lucky you're smart." The man tapped his forehead as they left the hanger.

The elderly man coughed violently, grabbing onto one of the armed guards. "My assistant;" his body rattled violently again as a coughing fit over took him.

The man groaned and turned. "Doktor…come now. We can get you a new one." The Doktor crept away weakly.

"Nanashi!" From the crowded rushed a young lanky teen his face half hidden by his side swept bangs. The man grabbed a hold of him leaning heavily on him. "He is the only one with the intelligence and dexterity to follow orders. " The boy stared at them impassively, helping the Doktor walk down the halls. The roar of the engineers and mechanics followed by gunfire was the last sounds heard as the group stepped onto a maintenance elevator.

Nanashi glanced at the Doktor who gave him a sympathetic smile before turning his attention back to the two men in the black suits. " _We must wait,"_ the thick German accent, hissed in his ear _, "you will change the tides of war."_

* * *

Ever wonder what would happen if the real Trowa was never killed and actually succedded in carrying out a partial Operation Meteor? He has the entirety of Barton behind him and even if the other pilots where willing to carry out the modified plan, you know Barton would keep coming for them.


	2. 1:1

1,260 Days::Cycle 1: Children of Men

" _Thou turnest man to destruction; and sayest,_

 _Return, ye children of men."_

 _Psalms 90:3_

 **1.1**

Smoke billowed, the wretched smell of decomposing flesh assaulting the senses as it mingled with dust; the artificial wind of the colony rotating and spinning it in a never-ending cycle. A cloud of flies lingered, abundant and lurid like a congregation of angry hornets making it hard to see everything, the sound was deafening. Emerald gazed out into the loathsome existence, an indigo and silver patterned keffiyah swathed around the face of a youthful man, gloomy circles under his eyes. He wore standard issue OZ battle dress uniform, much like the soldiers below him – a mostly dark green digital with speckles of black and grey, and calf high charcoal boots, shin guards strapped around his lower legs, a dagger tucked securely on the sides. The only thing separating the green-eyed man from the other drones was the officer insignia on the collar, OZW – OZ Warrant officer marked the man as a specialist in his field, and the OZW insignia on his shoulders that also denoted his specialty, an eagle clasping a shield in one claw, a sword in the other. He was a weapons specialist only made more evident by the M110 SASS slung across his back, the barrel pointing down for easy access. He held at the ready a standard M4-A1 with launcher attachment ready and loaded. He wore a flak vest, frag grenades, smoke and flash bangs secured in pouches the pockets securing two fully loaded magazines. He was not as some officer and snipers of his class where afraid to get into a fray.

Static filled his ears, "Unit _2, this is Unit 81. Perimeter is clear, colony is a go."_ In the distance, he saw billows of yellow smoke pop up, signaling the retrograde points _. OZ never withdrawals_ , he silently reminded himself. The young man shook his head and hastily made his way down from the building he had been perched. As he left the building, he stepped over a woman adjacent to her what was once an newborn, now a mutilated mess and continued on his way without a backwards glance. The colony was by OZ standards in the first stages of dismantling; soon it would be ready to fall to Earth in a fiery heap of destruction.

A platoon marched by, scarfs wrapped tightly around the faces of the OZ soldiers. He fell in step with the platoon, as a warrant officer he was lower than a commissioned officer was but higher than a non-commission him being in the ranks was unneeded, but it looked more formal. He decided the platoon he would fall into; at least until they arrived back at the hanger bay, where he knew that a large OZ fight class shuttle waited, was his. A young solider smiled grimly at him and he graced the boy with a knowing glance and a warm hopefully friendly smile. The kid was ready to vomit, grey skin, eyes sunken in from the sights he was required to participate and witness. _The kid is barely holding it together_.

The hanger bays where swarming with life, loud and boisterous as the soldiers where fed. "Warrant Officer Triton Bloom?" He glanced around, his eyes settling on a young OZ solider, a satchel tossed over one shoulder. "Sir!" He saluted, relaxing as it returned. "You presence is required at HQ."

"Yeah, give me a minute." The messenger nodded following the WO as he located the grim foot solider. The boy looked up from his plate; all he had managed to do was move the food around. He quickly jumped up only to stumble back into his seat, a strong hand shoving him back. "You did good out there kid. It was a hard fight." Distinctly he thought back to the woman in front of the building the baby beside her. "Keep up the good work. Eat something."

The boy nodded, swallowing hard, "thank…thank you Sir."

Triton nodded and followed the messenger to the HQ tent stood erected in the center of the hanger bay. He pushed the canvas aside, his face hardening as he took in the Majors and Generals who found it easier to hang about a table with schematics than to actual moral their troops. He stood at attention, saluting them.

"Officer Bloom," they returned the greeting and he relaxed to rest. "How many casualties and how many people were willing to evacuate?"

"At last count Sir, thirty percent had been willing to evacuate. These refugees where already beating the doors down when we got here and left with the first transports. The others were either to weak, dead dying or willing to fight us." The man nodded, stroking his tailored beard as he eyed the young man.

"Your platoon leader stated you had a hard decision to make today." The young officer frowned, but did not answer. "You're a good solider, great really. I am ordering you to take leave once we return to base."

"Sir, I-." The man frowned at him.

"Bloom, it's an order. Not a suggestion."

"Yes sir."

The man turned away, "get your food, get on the shuttle and rack out. It is a long ride back to XX1876-09. Dismissed." The soft clap of the officers boots striking together and the shifting of canvas informed them to his departure. Slowly he made his way through the crowd towards his platoon where a few soldiers sat fieldstripping rifles. It was a mechanical reflex, forced into their very being. Country before God then family then you, it did not change even at the last level. Weapons, then your troops then your needs where last, a never-ending cycle. He wanted a shower, to revel in the hot water that would by no means burn away the death he had witnessed and instigated; not even a bullet would do the trick. Deliberately he made his way around the company, like other lower ranking commissioned officers and the very few warrant officers besides him; they went within their companies checking on the troops; paying special attention to their platoon.

"Sir!" He glanced up from the fledgling private he was talking with. An older man rapidly approached a playful smirk on his face.

"Sergeant Marks, to what do I owe the honor?"

"Rodgers and Marik are with the Docs." The man pulled out a cigarette, lighting it. "TOP wanted me to give this to you. It's not Secret Squirrel." Triton nodded, glancing over the offered memo. The Sergeant's grin grew. "Colonel has you do a lot of 'special' projects for her."

Triton stared at him, clearly stunned he would challenge boundaries. "Sergeant, jealousy doesn't befit you. " She simply sought to talk with him. He knew better but not every Tom, Dick, and Harry needed to know his private business. Over the Big Voice, the fond term the troops gave the loudspeaker system, came a short jaunty tune. Around them soldiers stood, gearing up to wait to board the transport shuttles. Triton tucked the memo in his shoulder pocket as Sergeant Marks walked past him down the row.

"Alright gentlemen; Police the area, then prepare to board. Its 0100, we will be departing at 0330. Stand by to standby." Triton shook his head joining the rest of the platoon in detail otherwise he would have been doing nothing but watching. Someone higher up did not have their mind made up or in most cases they where playing funnel nuts. It wouldn't surprise him if it was the latter.

* * *

Just a heads up. there will be swearing, blood, gore horrors of humanity and other adult themes. I'll try to keep the rating low at least a T but this most likely will become M. I have big plans for this it's not going to be all horrible...just like 90% that other 10 is reserved for sweet gum drops and cotton candy unicorns.


	3. 1:2

Cycle 1.2

Synthetic light spilled through the window. The sound of birds twittering, the fragrance of dark coffee wafted through the small studio apartment. It was a bare apartment, a soft grey couch with a chaise at one end. A miniature black coffee table sat right in front of it across from a well-sized TV that hung on the wall. The kitchen was monochromatic, black and silver, the only hint of color past the tinges of grey was a small blue houseplant that sat on the counter. To the side a set of stairs led down into the garage, a large red motorcycle sat beside of mid-sized suv.

An obnoxious beeping resounded through the flat, cut short, followed by light footfalls of the tenant making their way down the stairs. The person stopped, looking at the small pot bound plant.

"I was wondering when your alarm went off. Six thirty is a little late Officer Bloom." The man glanced to the couch.

"When did you start breaking and entering unsuspecting subordinates homes Colonel?" Lieutenant- Colonel Lady Andreanna Une, a Countess by blood, but a solider nonetheless tapped her fingers casually on her knee. She appreciatively glanced him over and stood as he turned away going towards the coffee pot.

She sighed sitting at the bar, "Officer Bloom."

"Anne," she smiled at him resting a large manila envelope on the counter. Jade rested on it briefly as he held out a cup of coffee. She nodded her thanks looking down into the light tan steaming water. They sat in a harmonious quiet, her smiling while enjoying the sweet warm drink and him watching her suspicious as well as bewildered. "You don't just show up here without needing or _wanting_ something. " The Colonel looked at him; they had a mutual relationship with most deals reached between 500 thread count sheets. With a short breathe, she put her cup down and opened the large packet.

"I have a Top Secret task for you. We have a highly classified delivery that needs to make it safely to its destination." She smiled handing the file over to him. He took the folder, eyeing the body-hugging dress she wore. She had not needed to show up in such a sultry get-up for him to do something, there was always more to her just blindly showing up. Personally, he was longing to get back to work. The Major's forced leave was maddening and he found himself spending a majority of his time at the gym, firing range and even his neighbor, Mrs. Graskiis knitting class. Who knows, those needles may come in handy one day in taking out an enemy or making a deadly scarf.

"It's going to Corsica?" Anne nodded finishing off the last of her coffee. It was a small unassuming detail; he and three other pilots would be chaperoning needed humanitarian relief. He snorted closing the folder, the colonies had less to offer other than technology compared to the Earth which even with its rapidly changing climate was still able to provide food for its people, and some support for the colonies. Pointlessly he thought back to the woman and quickly took a drink of his coffee pushing the thought out of his mind. "What is it?"

Anne merely shrugged, "You really have no choice in the matter Officer Bloom. These are just relief. The normal for continued Operations you know; important upgrades, medicine, some crops that due to the war have been depleted on the Earth." Green glanced questionably at smiling tawny. In all truth, Anne really had no idea what they were transporting. Even after having her best hackers' test the waters as a precaution; it just showed up as relief. Triton however, as well as Anne, knew there was more that had most likely been blacked out.

"You really enjoy all this don't you?" He glowered scornfully and she shook her head.

"War is an exquisitely injured affair. Ideals are magnificent; but history is an unbearably bitter mistress." She sat her mug down, walking a crossed the room. He watched the sway of her hips as she sauntered up the stairs leading to the loft, his mind wondered when the affair had begun, really he didn't are when more as to why one of them was not strong enough to end it. Maybe in the end, neither really wanted to.

She needed him ; Treize's betrayal and the consummate nuptials that occurred only a few short months ago to one Leia Barton were devastating to the officer. The woman was a remarkable sight, she was pretty, an elegant Stepford Wife with a noble job as a nurse. Treize and Leia's relationship far transcended his friendship with the Lieutenant- Colonel, and the defection of Leia to Romefeller was a hard blow to the Barton Foundation. Not many people knew of her connection and even with his inside knowledge, thanks to Trowa, he was highly surprised. She had changed her name and had been, prior to her marriage known as Leia Bloom. Many in OZ's upper ranks questioned if they were relations, the higher cadre's wives commented on their similarities. Triton saw none, her strawberry hair was a few shades darker than most and her vibrant ice blue eyes where just as striking as his forest green. The woman had individually approached him and told him about a young woman on Earth, an acrobat who was making a name for herself; had been her muse, Leia confessed. However, Leia Kushrenada was the furthest thing from his mind as a black dress hit him square in the face. The folder, his coffee and the ever rotating world would have to wait for now.

His jaw taut, hands gripping her hips as Anne lifted up. It had become a most dangerous waltz, a dizzying engagement with each twirl; they drew closer ever harder to break away from the other. She moaned, nails digging into his back, legs wrapped around his waist pulling him closer, long russet locks tumbling over the edge of the bed. She had been distraught upon hearing Treize had a fiancé, and then only a week later to marry her was devastating. Leia could not compare to Andreanna Une, whose loyalty at one point had driven her mad. The resolve of the Colonel, the perseverance to her troops and Devil May Care attitude that developed after the ceremony was addictive, growing as Treize's scrutiny lay in a different place now centered on somebody else.

The major turning point had occurred shortly after the wedding. They had met a few times before, but for him to receive a summons was of great interest. He had admired her from afar. Even in this time it was still rare to see a woman who was so powerful that men who had been to hell and back quivered. Unlike Treize, whose ideals inspired loyalty; Lady Une's habit of joining the fray inspired loyalty of her troops. Now he stood before her, his file, No. 196, sat on the desk in front of her a deep-set frown on her face.

" _You don't have much of a history, but it says you excel at mobile suit mechanics and engineering."_ She had glanced up at him, eyeing the uniform he wore, _"your knowledge of mobile suits and weapons is expansive; more so than some of our top scientist."_

" _I had a lot of time to learn."_ A brusque answer, courteous but short. _"Is there a specific reason I'm here Colonel?"_

She smiled wryly, _"I need test pilots."_ She had ordered him to the new unit, the 44th Mobile Suit Strike Force. It was under her command with Major Tatam, an old cranky pilot, as her second. The subsequent official meeting ended with her bent over her desk after a heated debate about equipping the specialty Leos the unit had received with photon rifles.

" _They take too much energy from the Leo,"_ it was a realistic statement. The grumbling degree holders long dismissed. Now they had spent the last two hours arguing about what would happen – rifle or no rifles.

" _It's a lot stronger than their current weapon and the Gundams wouldn't stand a chance if they got hit by one."_ She tossed the prints onto the desk between them, _"I think it's an acceptable cost."_

He frowned, leaning over her desk, _"you're daft if you think I would allow that to happen."_

" _Officer Bloom,"_ she narrowed her eyes at him. " _That's insubordination."_

" _Anne,"_ he glared back not moving, as she stood tall in her five foot two glory, he still looked down at her hunched over the desk. They had butted heads multiple times when she had come to check on the unit in person. She wanted Leos that are more powerful and he refused to jeopardize the troops under his leadership. Major Tatam felt that young officer had a firm hand on the unit, having left the management of the 44th up the Warrant Officer this particular day preferring to spend most of his time after lunch on the golf course. _"I don't give two shits."_

She rounded the desk, her cheeks red with anger. _"I'm your commanding officer; you will show the proper respect."_ He smirked, her short stature was comical but he knew better than to laugh in her face. She brought her hand up and he quickly grabbed her, sitting her down on the desk, her arm pinned between them. Triton was much stronger than her, her squirming became excessive his head falling to her shoulder.

" _Stop."_ He growled into her neck, hands tightening on her hips. Lady Une could not help but smile and managed to weasel her hand out from between them, teasing the hem of his pants. _"Colonel…"_ He faltered, bucking against the hand that found its way between him and the soft fabric of his underwear. She moaned as he pressed against her, burying himself deep within her. He held her hands; fingers entwined arms out stretched in front of her. She pushed back as he bucked forward. It was a quick tryst, the two straightened their uniforms in a somber quiet the pungent scent of sex lingered in the air.

" _Is there anything else Colonel?"_ She regarded Triton as he stood in front of her desk, his beret grasped firmly in his hands. She straightened out the papers that had ended up on the floor.

" _I want the reports of the photon rifle test Officer Bloom and the effects they have on the Leos. I will have the engineers work on new rifles for the suits."_ He nodded, _"within the week."_

" _Yes ma'am."_ She eyed him.

" _Dismissed."_ With a salute, he headed towards the large wooden door, it soundlessly closing behind him. For a moment, she stared blankly ahead. Her legs felt weak, her body raw, numb and excited. She allowed herself to smile, her cheeks turning red as she casually though about the officer. She could get used to those types of reports. She noted he had won, rather sneakily and she no longer cared if he actually tested the Photon Rifles on the Leos.


	4. 1:3

Mid-morning showers where a favorite of Triton's, especially when there was warm water aplenty, but with Anne, it seemed to turn icy right as she finished leaving him in an ice flow that helped calm his nerves. Staring at the knobs, Triton turned the hot water off, the flow ceasing and stepped out. Steamrolled off him as cold air drifted over his already chilled skin, goosebumps forming as water ran over his toothbrush.

"I made breakfast." Anne's low words startled him, grabbing a towel taunt around his waist, toothbrush poking out from his lips Triton faced her disgruntled. "Not like I haven't seen it all before Bloom." Biting her lip, Anne crossed her arms over his sweater, hugging the merino fabric closer relishing its softness and the detergent he used.

"It's polite to knock," he teased while coating his face with a thick layer of shaving cream. Intrigued, Anne leans against the door frame watching the drag of the straight razor under his chin, the way he flicked the excess cream off, relishing the scent of Bay Rum aftershave as he finished. A guilty pleasure, Anne guarded her own bottle of the specific scent he used in his medicine cabinet applying it lightly to an old hoodie, one he had offered her when she had gotten cold one night when his missions lasted too long.

"Just hurry up, breakfast is getting cold." Straitening the W.O. Insignia on his collar, Anne smiled hand lingering on his shoulders. With a quick glance at his towel, she turned away bounding down the stairs the slightest bit of black lace peaking with each step. She disappeared as the door closed with a soft click of the latch.

"Well well well! Look who decided to grace us with his presence!" A soft smile spread crossed Triton's lips as his company turned watching as he made his way to the sole empty seat, far in the front of the classroom beside the company officers. Heads turned, eyes following him as he sat between two smiling lieutenants. As he relaxed into the chair, cheers erupted. The First Sergeant of the Unit rolled his eyes bushy brows furrowing together in warning to his rowdy troops.

"Thank you Officer Doksan for letting us know Officer Bloom has joined us." Dark blue scanned the crowd, hand jerking outward, "Hey you two idiots in the back, sit yer asses down." In the far back of the room, two soldiers dropped into their seats, their claps slowly dying. The First Sergeant eyed the company one last time before turning to the screen behind him.

"Alright fruitcakes, we have been granted a top-secret mission. We are to deliver a package to Corsica, as we are all aware there are still rebel factions throughout the Earth, so Colonel Une has made suggestions and his Excellency has approved them. Captain Diciassette will be the C.O. for the mission, Officer Bloom, and Officer Doksan will be Pilot and Communications officer respectively. Private Martin, Corporal Lough and Sergeant Largent will be support crew." The First Sergeant turned to the six seated before the rest of the company. "Gentlemen, you are representatives of the Forty-Four and more importantly Bravo Company. Departure is at twenty-three hundred hours."

In the middle of the room, a hand shot up, "what exactly is the package?"

"Blacked out." Murmuring spread rapidly, the First Sergeant gripping his podium tightly. "Hey! Hey!" The crowd quieted under the booming voice, "this is an important mission, no questions asked and its from Treize Kushrenada himself. He has handpicked our unit, this is a great honor." The room finally silent as the soldiers digested that bit of information. "If no one has anything to say, you are all dismissed, rally at Port A-3 at twenty hundred hours."

* * *

Officer Doksan huffed jogging away from a group of soldiers to catch up to Triton as the youngest officer made a beeline out of the overcrowded room, "Bloom!" The younger officer turned looking down at the Company communications officer. "My wife was wondering if you would like to join us for dinner tonight. The mission is going to take a few days and well, a gangling kid like you could use a good home cooked meal." Triton's brow lifted, at the insult. While Triton was younger than Yirmi Doksan, a twenty-three-year-old with an upbeat attitude who lacked the ability to stay quiet for long periods of time, he held a higher rank and with it came that over the whelming ability to abuse power. Other officers would have put the W.O.1 in his place but for Triton is was an everyday occurrence from the older man.

"Sure," a smile as wide as Gibraltar spread over Doksan's face.

"Celeste is going to be so excited, she gets really excited whenever you come over. I don't understand why. But she's a woman, who understands anything they think or say." Doksan rambled forcing Triton along with a stern hand on his back. Triton allowed himself to be steered, silent.

Celeste Doksan hummed, her husband watching with furrowed brows. From her graceful smile to the way her red hair had been pinned back in rolling curls, even the fitted empire dress had caught him off guard. Yirmi turned watching as she stepped away again retrieving a roast. A crossed the table Triton sat his attention focused on a tiny brown haired blue eyed gurgling baby. A high-pitched squeal of laughter pulled Yirmi's attention to his daughter as the pilot played peek-a-boo, entertaining the infant as it waited for dinner.

As the roast was placed in the center of the table, Celeste stepped away once again. "Do we need all this food?"

A basket of rolls landed roughly on the table, Celeste leveling her husband with a glare. "Yes dear, we have a guest, who was kind enough to bring gifts." Yirmi shook his head as his wife grabbed one of the gifts, the other a small bouquet of flowers sat at the center of the table. Popping the cork on the wine bottle Celeste poured her a glass, smiling as she sat down.

"Let's eat gentlemen. Triton, I'm so glad you came."

Triton offered a friendly smile, "you make the best food Celeste."

The woman's smile grew, a light blush caressing her cheeks. She turned to her husband, "Thank you so much. That means a lot." Yirmi shook his head as he cut into his roast – the only thing on his plate. The dinner progressed as Celeste loosened up with another glass of wine, the baby falling asleep at the table.

"Just like her father." Celeste chuckled brushing her daughter's hair out of her face, "I'll take her to bed." She stood, wobbled and sat back down. Yirmi shook his head standing and unhooked his daughter from the chair.

"I'll take her, why don't you deal with your wife." Triton took the tiny body, Yirmi nodding a thank you as he gathered his wife up. Celeste sighed clinging to her husband as he walked her from the room.

"Are you going to spend the night with me, soldier?" Celeste purred following with a giggle and snort. Triton shook his head looking down at the baby, her head on his shoulder. Careful, he stood to take the baby to her crib laying her amongst the pink and white sheets, Triton straightened watching the baby sleep. He tried imagining himself with a being that small and helpless, his brain conjured nothing of the sort. This tiny speck of hope for a better future was not for him, he decided as he stepped out leaving the door open. As he past Celeste and Yirmi's room he could hear her begging not to leave, to stay with her and not go on this mission. Triton continued to the dining room clearing and cleaning the table and dishes. Yirmi mumbled something the door opening wide and the communicator stepping out searching for his teammate.

"Triton," he only called once locating the teen by the running sink water. "No wonder why my wife loves you."

Triton chuckled, "she doesn't love me." He grinned as Yirmi took a seat at the island bar.

Sighing Yirmi tapped the tiles watching the other officer wash dishes. "Naw, she's already told me if I die she's going to marry you. It would be a come up for her, younger, better looking, stronger you're the whole package and a bag of chocolate chip cookies." The last dish slid into the rack, Triton turning to Yirmi. The man, with his mop of slicked brown hair and vibrant blue eyes, was a catch in his own way. A jokester and the life of the unit everyone looked up to him for guidance, like an older brother. On the opposite side, Triton was the defacto leader. "Thanks for coming over bro, Celeste does worry about you. She thinks of you as a brother."

"That she wants to marry?" Yirmi shrugged.

"Apparently so." Yirmi grinned at him, "one day you'll have your own Celeste and a little baby too. We can't keep fighting forever." Triton folded the washrag over the side of the sink.

"I'll see you later, remember twenty-three hundred, Port A-3."

Following him to the door, the artificial sun of the colony setting Yirmi patted his back, "I won't forget! Don't do anything stupid between here and home." Bounding down the steps, Triton waved at his friend.

* * *

It has been two years since I started this story. I plan to finish it eventually, along with the bazillion others I have. I envisioned Yirmi as having similar features to Heero (similar hair color but more military cut and sky blue eyes) but the personality of Duo.


	5. 1:4

Captian Diciassette, a transfer from OZ's highly decorated Specials Brigade 244th, was not used to the antics of the younger men. While the 244th was an old, aristocratically aligned unit with youngling's aplenty, they where all from noble birth and rich colony blood, not the 44th, mostly men of common birth or orphans- the expendables. The 44th to his was nothing more than young men playing an aristocrats game. With his small crew of five, this was vocalized more than once. He did not pretend to enjoy his overpaid position as a babysitter, this was well known as he announced it over the loudspeaker fifteen minutes after the ship had left. Now, he had the three enlisted soldiers running laps around the bay, dodging the black matte Leo's another order waiting to fall from his lips. Yirmi watched, mouth half opened as Diciassette bellowed his command.

"Front leaning rest position go!" The three enlisted dropped to the steel floor, lifting then dropping in unison. Diciassette smirked turning to the Warrant Officer, "is there an issue Officer Doksan?"

Yirmi's mouth closed in a fine line. "No sir, just watching."

Diciassette nodded turning back to the three men in the far distance, "where is Officer Bloom, wouldn't he want to watch how real Officer's train their men."

Yirmi bit back a snort, "he is…um...I believe he is on a conference call right now." Yirmi rocked slightly on his heels, a bad habit he recognized when he lied.

"With who?" Diciassette crossed his arms, a small smile turning at the edges of his mouth as the Private's repetitions became shaky.

"Colonel Une." Diciassette eyes grew wide, shocked he had not been the one she would have spoken too.

"What right does that, that boy have to speak to her? In private like this." The Captain stomped, "take over here Office Doksan." Yirmi nodded stepping back as the Captian stormed to the deck.

* * *

Colonel Une watched Triton as he jotted down coordinates consistently checking them against the pathway the ship was currently set on. "At Corsica, there will be a military police escort waiting for this ship, the package you are to deliver is in the conexConex, the other is the suit on the flatbed."

Triton sat his pen down looking at the small screen Une appeared on. The mission was considered a complete blackout The file contained no information and even the base commander had no knowledge in which to impart on the small squad about the mission; only Treize did, and that knowledge left Triton with a churning stomach. Something hadn't felt right with the mission when another Officer, a Specials Officer at that, had been loaned to the unit to carry out such a small detail as this. nodded,

"Enemy activities?"

"None have been reported so far, however, it is not to be ruled out. There are still four Gundams on Earth, they maybe in hiding, but that was why you were selected- "

"Voluntold." He corrected grimly. Lady Une stopped speaking, brow lifting above her glasses. "You hand picked our unit."

"I have complete faith in your abilities and those of the forty-four."

"Hmm, then why do we have a Captain from a Specials Unit?"

"Capitan Diciassette is an old friend of His Excellencies, and he is a supporter of OZ within Romefeller. There is nothing to worry about Officer Bloom." Triton stared at her flickering image, even her words could not appease the twisting knot. "Look, Triton, I understand you have been with the forty-four since you where fifteen, many of these men you grew up with they are family and now there is someone new, it's a lot to take in." Resting his leg on his knee, Triton placed his notebook on the panel between them. _Family? I had one once._ Triton withdrew, staring down at the notebook, one of the only things he had left from his childhood. Its worn leather cover riddled with deep gouges, with pages yellowed with age, it was the only connection that remained of his childhood, if one would even call it that. It came back in a flash, the cockpit of a rebel Leo, the cock of a gun and _her_.

Une frowned as he turned from her, communication between them breaking as her picture became static momentarily. "Speaking of Capitan Diciassette, where is he?" Triton stood, and she knew then she had lost him, back into whatever thought his mind pulled him into. At times like this, it was always best to let him be. "I will check back in later, take care." The picture faded to black as the deck door slid open Diciassette dashing in like an angered honey badger.

"Officer Bloom!" Diciassette roared at the young man repeatedly the growls dying as the young man turned, void of emotion to take in the rabid man.

"Captain?"

Shook by the toneless question, Diciassette cast a glance around the room, "You spoke with Colonel Une?"

Triton nodded his head slowly picking up his notebook and tucking it into his jacket. "Doksan said you wanted to see me?"

Diciassette shook his head, "no I don't recall that. Anyways your dismissed." The two stood quietly each studying the other. "That means leave Officer Bloom." Diciassette marched to the Captain's chair dropping into the seat.

"Aye Captain."

* * *

"I don't know sir, we ran around the bay for two hours and the bloody arse enjoyed it." Largent glanced into the open cockpit of a Leo, Yirmi beside him against the railing of the catwalk, Private Martin and Corporal Lough stood beside Yirmi, the Corporal acting as a look out. "Three days of this guy was enough."

Martin shifted stilling as Triton lifted his eyes to him, the singular gaze startling the teenager illuminated by the tablet in his hands, "Private?"

Martin's eyes grew wide head jerking to the other members of the squad, "um, I uhuh I-I-I," smiles spread crossed the faces of the older men, entertained by the teens stutters. Triton's did the opposite as he exited the cockpit, face grim, the mission had been jeopardized. The boy's eyes jerked to the Conex strapped down to the floor. Triton followed his gaze taking off at a rapid pace on the catwalk. Martin followed like a squirrel, "Umm Captain Diciassette opened it last night. I had caught him, and I-I ran and, and I um I uhuh went to the Sergeant and Corporeal as they where on duty sir. But-but the Captain caught me before I could tell them." Martin swallowed closing his eyes as Triton pulled one of the Conex doors open. Lights illuminated the rectangular steel case, bathing the interior in light. The other men crowded behind Martin watching as Triton stepped around the make shift apartment bringing their hands up to shield the stench of human waste that flowed out of the container. The floor, covered in engineering books, papers taped to the wall resembled a Gundam. One the rear wall was a large map of the world a large red X over L3 while the other LaGrange points had different colored strings attached that led to four separate points on Earth.

"What is it?" Yirmi pushed the open door back further poking his head in to get a better look. Triton turned, leg hitting the corner of a make shift coffee table spilling a mug of black coffee.

"Shit," the officer squatted picking up the mug first, hesitating. It was still warm even thought his work gloves he could feel the heat radiating off the mug. "Martin, did the Captain say anything else, anything at all about what was in here?" Focused on the insides of the container, Triton shifted through pile flipping folders open, digesting bits and pieces of what knowledge was inside. _Gundam schematics, old target points…I know this writing. Doktor S…_

"No, I did not Officer Bloom." The commissioned soldiers jerked back creating a pathway for the Captain as he neared the empty Conex, one eye swollen shut purpled. Yirmi shifted away from the door as Triton stepped out, the mug still grasped in his hand. "It's none of your con," the cock of a gun ricocheted off the walls of the bay, "Officer Bloom, are you willing to commit treason?"

Triton's hand tightened on the gun, "who was in this Conex Captain Diciassette?"

"You would love to know, wouldn't you?" The loud bang of the gun firing rang in everyone's ears. Yirmi wiggling a finger in his shook his head. Diciassette glared at the young Officer. "Are you insane?"

Yirmi stepped forward beside Triton, "Officer Bloom is the best sniper in OZ, he doesn't miss. What was in the Conex?"

Sensing the Captains unwillingness to speak Triton holstered the gun much to everyone's surprise other than Yirmi who just turned away as a soft thud and a grunt flowed from the Captains mouth followed by a loud thud. "Should have just answered us."

"Martin, Lough, tie him up," turning from the two soldiers he looked at Yirmi, "search the upper decks, argent you search the cabins and I will search the lower decks. Earpieces in, keep communication to a minimum."

"Yes, sir."

Lough sighed looking at the Private as they dragged the Captains limp body. "Why don't we ever do the fun things?"

"Guard duty is quiet exciting to me."

Lough shook his head, "that's because you are an intelligence nerd, not infantry."

Yirmi peeked around the hall corner inhaling as he caught sight of Largent standing before the Officer's cabins, relief washing over him as stepped out grinning. Largent glanced at him nodding his head as the Officer rushed over hand gun drawn, "where is Bloom?"

"Triton is coming, it takes a hot minute to get from the lower decks to the cabins." Yirmi smiled, chuckling more to his other thoughts, "I'm sure he will be here soon, sandwich making is an art."

* * *

Largent shook his head, hand rubbing over the barrel of his rifle, growing ever restless as the seconds ticked by. He doubted the Warrant Office had stopped for a mid-search snack, but then he couldn't deny the possibility. It wasn't unlike Triton to have snacks hidden on his person always, briefings where often filled with a crinkling chip bag, raids ended in a round of fruit flavored gummy ropes and company potluck dinners while the Warrant Officer made sure to bring the biggest and most delicious dish, he also happened to have a bottomless pit. So, it wasn't out of anyone's mind during a raid to see the young man laden down with weapons, chip bags, candy and other easily transportable snacks hidden in every available pocket. The great thing about it, he shared unlike some men who hoarded their wives' delicacies, Triton openly shared that amazing beef jerky, a staple in his ruck with every deployment, had made a name for itself in the unit. Largent sighed, he could really go for that pick me up right now.

Yirmi leaned against the wall checking his handgun, brushing his hair different ways popping and then flattening his collar. "I wasn't aware we were participating in a pageant Doksan." Yirmi jumped chuckling slightly as Triton came up behind him. Sheepishly Yirmi placed his hair back to its normal slicked back style. Triton stepped between them hand gun held between both hands and nodded to Largent who pressed in the keycode. The door slid back, a cloud of humid air hitting them as it rolled out a gentle hum drifting out with it. Triton entered first, gun held aloft as he turned around the steamed room. Yirmi and Largent stacked against the bathroom as Triton stood opposite them, the door was open and water running but the humming seemed to come from all over the shared room.

"Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence." Yirmi and Largent pulled away from the wall guns pointing at Triton as he straightened, gun dropping as a knife pressed against the side of his neck. "Nanashi…."

Confusion crowded Yirmi and Largent's faces looking from Triton to the grey haired made with the prosthetic nose behind him. "Doktor S." As the steam cleared the two soldiers saw him smiling softly, prouder when they thought to Diciassette own vicious smirk.

"Your Captain has compromised your mission. OZ forces are quickly approaching, and you will die. What will you do now?"

Doktor S stepped away from the Officer turning his back to the three OZ soldiers. Yirmi frowned, "Why are we going to die? Oz wouldn't betray their own men."

The Doktor chuckled at the naivety of the statement, "Do you know who I am boy?" Triton looked at Yirmi who shook his head I the negative then to Largent who remained silent. "I thought so." Doktor S turned back to Triton handing him Yirmi's gun. "You have choices Nanashi, kill me and save your friends; fight OZ and save these gentlemen and follow the modified plan to the best of your abilities, or walk away from this life."

Triton took the handgun, then glanced to the two soldiers behind him. "Suit up."

Doktor S smiled watching the young men storm out of the room, "good luck my boy."


	6. 1:5

_Tick-tock- tick-tock tick-tock_

Duo Maxwell's eye twitched in unison staring at the grandfather clock with its Roman numerals and brass arms. Around him, the crowd swelled and flowed in a current of chatter and clinking champagne glasses, German and Dutch intermingled into a mass cloud of confusion.

"Heero sent you alone?" Warmth radiated off the short blond beside him, her cocktail dress shimmering with each shift of her weight. "That's awful odd of him."

Relena Darlin, hair pinned in an ornate bun diamonds hanging in a net around her hair, smiled sliding her arm between the Americans; pulling him to the next artifact in the gallery. Her arm pulled him closer as they looked at the next grandfather clock. "Berlin 1941. It's amazing being able to look back into the past nearly two thousand years ago."

Duo nodded bringing his flute of champagne to his lips, "and think, we still don't have flying cars."

"No, but there are space colonies and Gundams." The light caught the ruby red shade of lipstick, her lips pulling into a barely concealed smirk. As they moved to the next clock she leaned up pointing out a finely dressed man with light auburn hair beside him a frail-looking strawberry blond. "Treize Kushrenada and his wife Leia nee Barton."

Duo looked at the pair, Treize's vivacious smile and magnetic smile to Leia's tired eyes, dull hair and quiet demeanor. "She's sick?"

"She was born and raised on L3, its harder for colonist when they are here Earthside. The air, everything really, effects them much worse than us."

"I'm sure it doesn't help that her brother had nearly wiped out the United States."

Relena nodded, "I suppose it hasn't helped anyone. Refugees have flooded Europe, even Africa, South America and Asia aren't fairing any better. And the colonies," she scoffed waving a waiter away, "they turn a blind eye to the pain Barton, the Alliance everyone has caused." They stopped near a wall of windows looking out at the cityscape of Berlin, the Brandenberger Gate lit in a flood of yellow in the distance. Behind them the gallery voices and history buffs disappeared, Duo looking out at the city while Relena studied the American.

"You look handsome in a suit Duo."

The man frowned glancing at her, "What?"

"You look good, I must admit I didn't think you would be able to fit all that boyish charm in there, but you look…older, more like a gentleman even with the braid." She smiled as his cheeks turned a hue of pink that was quite flattering for a young man. Her smile grew, a perfect pair of white illuminating their dimmed corner. "We should get a drink sometime."

"I already have a drink." He held up his still full flute, "Miss Darlin, we are dangerous, you realize this? Even three years later, we are still dangerous."

Relena dipped her head moving slightly closer to the pilot, "that's what makes this all exciting Mr. Maxwell." Her finger flicked his bow tugging at one side, not enough to unravel it just to tease. Suddenly a tray of champagne appeared between the two, Duo stumbling to the side words ready to cut the waiter, but he stopped as stormy Persian blue glared at him.

"Heero…"

Heero nodded to the American, turning to Relena, "would you like another drink?"

"No, I believe one is quite enough." Heero glared at Duo before spinning away.

"Eye on the target." Duo groaned low, rolling his eyes. Relena, turning away from the two, smiled biting her bottom lip to stifle her laughter. As Heero disappeared into the crowd Duo released a puff of air looking back out at the city.

"Eye on the target."

"He's right to work now play later." Relena patted Duo's shoulder, motioning to Treize as he led Leia around like a show dog. "Let me introduce you."

"That drink," Duo whispered into her ear, "my treat."

Treize turned to them as they approached, smiling graciously at the young daughter of the Vice Foreign Minister, "Miss Darlin." In the distance, a loud wailing could be heard. From the corner of her eye Relena could see blue lights of the Polizei flashing and behind Treize stormed Zech Marquise.

"Your Excellency…we have an issue."

Treize smiled at the young couple and turned to his wife, "Leia, could you entertain Miss Darlin and her gentleman friend."

Leia, stepping forward as Treize stepped away looking between the two, "Miss Darlin, who is your friend?"

"This is Duo Maxwell, your Grace."

Leia smiled, glancing back to her husband as the discussion between him and Zechs grew louder. "What do you mean there is a sixth Gundam!" Duo's grip on Relena tightened, Leia, looking between the two as the sudden closeness.

"Mr. Maxwell, there is no need to worry. OZ will handle those horrendous mobile suits." Duo stared down at the woman, Relena's finger pinching the inside of his wrist in warning. "And then the Earth and Colony's can be united under one rule." She smiled then, looking behind her at her husband in his military regalia. "It will be a glorious reign."

Duo's nose crinkled as he glared at the woman. Relena patting his chest looked at Leia, the ghost of a former Alliance nurse. "Yes, Mr. Maxwell is just tired of this nonsensical fighting. You see, he grew up in California, and everything west of the Mississippi is just a desolate wasteland. It's his duty to his nation to be so defensive."

Leia gasped, a slender hand coming to cover her mouth, "oh dear, a refugee. I see, those Gundams, just destructive. I am so sorry Mr. Maxwell, but its people like you that my husband fights, he fights for you to have a much more peaceful life. Have you thought of joining OZ, taking the fight to the Alliance and the colonies, OZ could use more strong men like you?"

Duo, disgusted by the woman's blunt disregard for her families' insolent shook his head, "I'm colorblind. Another wise I would."

"Oh, such a horrible thing. Wanting to fight for the freedoms that are inherent to man but cannot because of regulations."

Treize returned, Zech's lingering in the back. "Leia, Miss Darlin, Mr.…"

"Maxwell, a fine patriot. He's American."

"Mr. Maxwell, please excuse me. There seems to be an issue that has arisen. My dearest, Lieutenant Noin will escort you home."

Leia nodded looking back to Duo and Relena, "It was a pleasure speaking with you both. Please enjoy your night in Berlin."

Relena smiled wrapping her arm around Duo's, "Yes Lady Kushrenada, we will." Dragging Duo away, Relena led him through the crowd towards the kitchen door. The staff paid little attention as Relena smiled at the pilot pulling him through the busy crowd of waiters and cooks. One man looked up rolling his eyes.

"Young love, bah!" As they disappeared into the stairwell and out the back door a loud wailing alarm filled the city. Heero, having ditched his waiters uniform glared at the two.

"What took so long."

Relena shook her head leaving it up to Duo to answer his friend. "It seems there is a sixth Gundam. It must be over Berlin. His Excellency," Duo bite out the words, mocking the position with a slight wiggle. "must be going to handle it."

Heero shrugged a jacket on, "new mission, we are to secure this suit."

Duo sighed looking at Relena as she crossed her arms, "and Miss Darlin."

"I'm sure you can make a time to get lunch." Relena rolled her eyes.

"I will handle myself Duo. You guys go, I will be back in my suite." Relena brushed past Heero without a glance taking her phone out of her clutch. "Pagan? I'm ready to go back to my suite."

Duo sighed turning to Heero, "man I don't know what your deal is, but whatever is going on between you and Relena, you need to sort it out." Heero's eyes narrowed but Duo ignored him, not to the degree Relena could and left the alley. "Let's get this suit and let's hope its pilot isn't a crazy bullet shooting manic like that Trowa Barton."

"Mission Accepted?"

Duo groaned, "Mission Accepted. But you're getting me a schnitzel after this. Their finger sandwiches were horrible and so small."

"Let's get our suit."

* * *

Sir!" Largent's distorted voice rang out from his Leo, "there is a squadron of class E Leo FIVE'S on our six."

Triton frowned pulling the zipper on his suit up. As the zipper locked the suit tightened over his clothes, a feeling no one would ever get used to as the impermeable space/diving suit compressed their wearer's clothing to the body. A mix of uncomfortable layers, strangling heat and tightness that for some soldiers was rather chaffing.

"What is our location?"

"We are five hundred miles from Berlin. From The shuttles specs, they have already set the city to high alert and forces are being dispatched."

Yirmi, in a matching black space suit, frowned, "we can't hail them. Diciassette is in the chow hall berating Martin." The officer sighed, "are we doing the right thing? Really Bloom, think this over. I have a wife and kid, Largent is getting married in three months, Martin is only seventeen."

Triton stilled, running a gloved hand over his helmet, "Diciassette opened the Conex that held Doktor S. When I inspected it earlier it had a lock on it that automatically alerted the High Command if the lock was disengaged. There was only one code to that lock, and I had it."

"Obviously not mate, the old fucker got that Conex open with out your help."

Triton flipped the helmet, "even so, it's going to look like I opened it. If you want, send an SOS, let them know the mission has been compromised."

Yirmi scoffed punching the other officer's shoulder. "No, we are brothers, well the closets thing to a brother I have. We graduated in the same class, man we did so much crap together. We were set up. If only we knew why."

Triton brushed a hand through his hair, "Martin and Largent, they feel the same way?"

Yirmi smiled, "hell yeah they do. If not, they wouldn't have handcuffed the Captain. We are in this together, we are family."

"Do you two need a room, this is touching and all, but we have a serious issue here." Largent's voice filtered over their earpieces, "those suits are closing in fast, we have a rouge prisoner on board and at this time we are being labeled terrorist. Can we handle this?"

Yirmi smiled, holding his arm up. "Think you can handle that, it's bigger than what you're used too."

Triton bumped his forearm against Yirmi's, "Yeah I think I will manage to work with it."

"Just remember, firm grip."

"Stop flirting you two and get moving!" Largent shouted, in the cockpit, he tossed his hands in the air. Being the pilot and communications officer along with navigation was a hard task, one made harder by the pair of pilots dawdling around waiting to play grab ass.

"Jealous." The two muttered as their heads disappeared into their helmets. Doktor S, from behind the door of the hanger watched as the bay door opened into pitch black. The loosened canvas that covered his creation whipped widely around the bay before the wind sucked it out into the pitch of the night. The Leo stepped forward first turning to the Gundam as it moved into a sitting position. It was far taller than the cargo bay of the OZ carrier and to compensate moved into a squat position shuffling forward into the night.

"Godspeed Nanashi."

"Sixteen Leo Fives inbound." Yirmi's voice floated over the communication link with the Gundam. "We also have two unidentified suits coming in directly from the city of Berlin."

"Leos? Virgos?"

"Not sure, visual confirmation will be needed."

Triton smirked, the screens in his cockpit lighting up as the Leos opened fire. "Obviously, visual confirmation is important."

* * *

Once we find this suit, what exactly are we to do with it Heero?"

"Secure it."

Duo nodded humming slightly, "and how do we do that, what if it has a pilot? Do we kill the pilot?"

Heero glanced at the image of Deathsythe on his screen, "Duo, remember when we first met? You tried to shoot me."

"Well, you did threaten Relena and if I remember I came very close to taking your hand off."

"That's beside the point. We have to secure the suit, kill the pilot."

Duo's grip loosened on his controls, "are you serious?"The silence was Duo's only answer. "Of course, why not, let's not make allies."

* * *

Yirmi whooped as the last Leo feel into the sea below in a glorious blaze of overheating reactor light. "Damn that suits got some power. The pilot isn't too shabby either."

"You missed a one-shot kill. Three times."

"Girls, while I enjoy listening to your heated debate about who totes the bigger weapon and can aim better. We have two more suits incoming." Largent pointed out as the sensors on the suits began to beep. "Our engine seems to have taken a hit."

"I will handle the incoming suits. Yirmi, return to the carrier and assist Largent in a ditch."

"Aye sir"

As the black Leo dropped back, disappearing into the bay of the carrier; Triton turned his attention to the incoming suits. In a flourish of smoke and intermittent red tracers, the night sky above Warnemünde lit up like a small country town in America on the Fourth of July as a battle ensued.

* * *

On a rocky outcrop far on the edge of the Warnemünde coast stood a green lighthouse its light rotating as it vigilantly warned sailors of the dangers that lay in the twilight. Huddled on its balcony stood a young woman, a heavy jacket pulled tight around her, mercury eyes alight with the distance battle the sounds of the descending carrier filled the air, a nostalgic groaning only found in old war films. Much like the Mustangs in those films, as the carrier rapidly descended towards the sea, engine trailing gray smoke, bits of its underbelly and wings breaking away, the ghostly sound washed over the beach. Along the beach, a crowd had gathered waves lapping at their knees as the sea water rose to compensate for such a close hit dropping rapidly as the shock spread through the body of water.

Within seconds the fallen carrier was followed by a mobile suit. Having expended its munitions in the first half of the dogfight, the suit laden with explosives and gunfire was no match for the two other suits wielding beams of plasma.

The woman narrowed her eyes, a pleased smirk pulling at her lips as she delighted in the down carrier and mobile suit. Now, if only those Gundams would go away the killing could stop.

"Catherine…come on, it's getting cold out here. My feet are frozen!" The woman turned brown curls bouncing as she moved. The woman behind her smiled and glanced down at the base of the lighthouse where a ringmaster stood waiting for both. "We need to get ready for work anyways. Last one back to the trailers has to feed the lions."

Catherine huffed rushing after the other girl, the sun spilling over the bay and the smoking wreckage of the OZ Carrier. The two Gundams lingered over the site before heading towards shore, cheers and applause floating up from the beach as the suits flew overhead. Catherine remained quiet in the uproar looking out at the slowly sinking wreckage. While she felt over joyed at the sight, her stomach knotted in guilt, a guilt she couldn't place.

* * *

So I have been thinking about how the first three pilots would meet. How would you even write out a Gundam battle, like its like Quidditch after a while it gets a bit boring and I'm sure we read enough. Anyways, Triton (AU Trowa) is different than Canon Trowa. This is mostly due to the fast the real Trowa Barton is alive and so Nanashi was forced to join OZ and in so he made friends and formed a family with his unit. Will it be like his Episode Zero where he kills his unit? Who knows, they had raised him so what would be different with this unit?


End file.
